


Charles Dark and the Box of Naught

by AJBlake



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Dark Fantasy, Fantasy, Fiction, Mystery, Steampunk, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26792446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJBlake/pseuds/AJBlake
Summary: Charles seeks to uncover this mystery.





	Charles Dark and the Box of Naught

The night was thick with fog and smoke, intermingling together like lost lovers. Overheard, a black sky bled droplets of stars across it's vast expanse, and rain upon the forest below. Stormgarde looked a desolate sort in this bitter cold, but still the streets of the Lower Garde were littered with people. A man stood in the cascading light of a streetlamp at the corner of Herat and North Cliph, his hood pulled low on his head, his dark red hair peeking out from either side. The black cloak he wore billowed in a sudden gust of air brought forth as a carriage passed him by, and when it has continued on, a woman's eyes had fixed on him from the other side of the street.

The man narrowed his amber eyes. She was unmoving as people walked past her. Unmoving as the fog and smoke from the street bonfires sent gusts of dust her way. She was intent on keeping this man in her view. He folded his arms, leaned against the lamppost, and nodded his head ever so slightly. Now the woman moved, though it was like a stop frame film as she did. Every step she took, her hair stilled, her clothes ceased to flow. It was as though she existed in between movement. As she crossed the street, it took the thing man by a small amount of surprise when she was suddenly beside him.

“This meeting has been a long time coming,” she mused in a voice as silky as it was menacing.

He didn't look at her, but kept his gaze towards the bustling, wet streetgoers, “It was inevitable, Heresy; that we meet again.”

The woman pulled her fur lined hood back a little, her greyish skin dappled with droplets of rain, and her violet eyes sparkled from the light above, “I'd not intended it to be so soon, however. Your meddling as of late, though...” she trailed off, turning herself slightly to the side.

Now, he turned his head, followed by a slight movement of his body, “Do you think coming to me in public would stop me from apprehending you?”

Heresy gave a small chuckle, “I am certain of it, for I would fight to keep that from happening, and should these innocents get in the way,” she waves a gloved hand dismissively, “well, I can't account for what would happen to them.”

The man felt the urge to lunge forward at the woman, “Monster,” he whispered.

Another chuckle emerged from her, “It takes one to know one, Charles. And you know me,” she put a hand on his chest, “very well.”

“Don't touch me,” the man spat, batting her hand off him. He stepped back, his hood falling back at the sudden movement. His red hair whipped behind him, and he put his hand to the sword at his belt, “You lost that right years ago.”

Heresy mocked a frown as she seemed to move as blur, suddenly behind him, touching his shoulder, then, as he turned to face her, she was on top of a buildings awning, looking down at him. “Not tonight, Dark!” She hissed. “Stay out of my business. I won't warn you again.”

“Heresy!” He yelled, his voice drowning in the chatter and noise from the streets.

But, to no avail, as inside of a blink she was gone, leaving only the cold wind and rain shuffling through the Lower Garde. Charles Dark clenched his fist, and teeth, and spat. The woman had evaded him again; she had a way of weaving her words. He padded through the streets making it back to 42 Helifox, carefully opening the door, and entering.


End file.
